The Happy Partisan reports the initial action.

GrodsCorp reports the reciprocal action.

Half of me wants to watch the multimedia and the other half doesn’t.

Remember jLo’s ass jam sighting last year? Well wash down your ass jam with ass felafel or ass doner.

Mmmmm. Tasty.

Conversation one involves The Editor and a cafe worker in her early twenties.

The Editor: One takeaway latte please.
Cafe worker: That’ll be $2.80 thanks.
The Editor: (Handing over $20 note) There you go.
Cafe worker: (Punching register buttons) Damn! I rung it up twice. I’ll have to work out the change in my head.
The Editor: …
Cafe worker: Um, twenty minus two, minus, um…
The Editor: …
Cafe worker: (Pulling mobile phone out of pocket) I’ll do it on my phone.
The Editor: (!)
Cafe worker: That’s $17.20 change.

I blame public schools.

Conversation two involves McBec and a talkative clothes store sales assistant in her late thirties.

Sales assistant: I’ve had the weirdest day.
McBec: Really?
Sales assistant: I was walking to work this morning when my phone beeped. It was a text from my next door neighbour’s son.
McBec: Okay.
Sales assistant: It was a picture he’d taken of himself naked with a hard on.
McBec: (!)
Sales assistant: I don’t know if he texted the wrong number or not. I don’t know what to do.

GrodsCommenter Jack Dorf, completely unprovoked, brought the official Fleshlight forum to our attention the other day and fellow commenter Krypto wryly noted that it was time to reset the “days since Fleshlight mention” GrodsClock. So given that I can safely post this now without being accused of breaking the unofficial GrodsCorp Fleshlight ban, here is a gem I found one day at Yahoo Answers during an intertubes walkabout.

But the best bits are in the “other answers” section.

Firstly, this chick is offering her services as a researcher and she can’t even type “fleshlight” into a search engine. Secondly, she’s going to regret asking that question.

“Masturation”? Sounds kinky.

Awwww. This guy’s a SNAG. Always thinking of the laydeez.

From the Wild West comes this:

West Australian Opposition Leader Troy Buswell has broken down at a press conference and admitted he sniffed the chair of a female Liberal Party staffer.

Speaking to journalists at a press conference at Mandurah, south of Perth, Mr Buswell confirmed details of the woman’s account of a 2005 incident, reported in The West Australian newspaper today.

Oh dear. The only question that remains is: WHY?

The woman, who does not want to be named, said Mr Buswell started sniffing the chair she had been sitting on at his Parliament House office in December 2005.

The incident took place in front of other staff members.

She said he had done it to get a laugh.

That’s why he did it? To get a laugh?

Piss weak.

Mr Buswell has previously admitted to snapping a Labor staffer’s bra as a drunken party trick and has been accused by retiring Liberal MP Katie Hodson-Thomas of making sexist remarks to her.

Was that for a giggle as well?

He said it had been a difficult time for him “on a personal level”.

“These are difficult issues for me to deal with and they are very difficult issues for my family to deal with,” he said.

“It’s hard dealing with these matters and having to face up to your responsibilities behaviourally, publicly, and it’s harder to do it privately.”

Of course it’s been difficult for the family. No one else found it funny; why should the family?

Deputy Liberal leader Kim Hames was today standing by Mr Buswell, describing him as a “rough diamond with a robust sense of humour”.

“Robust”? How about just “iffy”?

And “rough diamond”? How about “undeveloped mineral deposit”?

Dr Hames said his leader needed to change his behaviour, but also acknowledged there was no one to replace him.

Right. Just like the Libs can’t replace Doctor Brendan Nelson. Hey, did you know he’s a doctor?

A CNN journalist who was arrested in New York was not only carrying drugs, but also had a rope tied around his neck and his genitals. British reporter Richard Quest was arrested wandering around Central Park at 3.40am on Friday with methamphetamine in his jacket pocket, the New York Post reports.

Quest, 46, was approached by police for loitering, before voluntarily admitting “I’ve got some meth in my pocket”, police claim. A routine search then found the rope, as well as a sex toy tucked into his boot.  (Source)

Has there been any traffic to Ant’s Fleshlight posts from New York City?

Hands up who’s ever taken the stalks off the hydroponic tomatoes so that they scan as shitty, cheaper tomatoes at the checkout?

Nobody, hey? Pack of filthy liars.

Well, this dude has moved well beyond the stalk-off scam but royally ballsed it up.

A man has faced court for allegedly tampering with a bar code to buy a $700 coffee machine for $30.

[…]

It was alleged Podolak took bar codes from cheaper items and put them over more expensive ones before going to the checkout.

What a tool. Only the dumbest checkout pleb is going to look at an expensive coffee machine, look at the cash register readout displaying $30, look back at the expensive coffee machine, and not have a flag raise in their mind. This bar code idiot obviously started out removing tomato stalks (like smoking joints) and slid down the slippery slope to brazen and ridiculous bar code swaps (like heroin).

Let that be a lesson to you, GrodsReaders: recreational scamming will always lead to the hard stuff eventually.

The Editor, John Surname, Ant Rogenous, Jeremy Sear and Wah discuss:

* Earth Hour
* Kevin Rudd’s world tour
* Brendan Nelson’s listening tour
* Max Mosely’s Nazi orgy
* Robert Manne vs. Keith Windschuttle in the naked GrodsThink cage fight

** Because overwhelming demand for Iain Hall’s latest EP has caused congestion in teh tubes use only the “Play in popup” link or the “Download” link. **

 

 GrodsThink 10 (1/4/08) [31:18m]: Play Now | Play in Popup | Download

Subscribe:   

As I’m the new kid on the block, I figure the only way to get people to sit up and notice, well, me is to become an upstart right from the, er, start.

Knowing how important The Fleshlight (do a search if you’re new and have no idea what a Fleshlight is, there are plenty of boyish posts on it) is to the lads and the laddish louts who read this blog, I am hoping to upset delicate feelings by bringing in a new competition: The Penis Flash Light. (Yours for only $6!)

Of course, it’s doomed to failure. It just doesn’t have that same name that rolls off the tongue like “Fleshlight” does. (No gratuitous jokes about it literally rolling off the tongue, please, gentlemen).

If it had a sensible yet catchy name (submissions please), it might just be the next big thing. On GrodsCorp only, of course.

Don’t get me wrong — I’ve done some truly stupid stuff in the course of my amateur DIY efforts around the house. Things that would make my father cringe (hi, Dad!) if he were aware of them. But thankfully (and lucky for McBec) I’ve never done anything quite as dumb as this.

A man who tried to use a gun to install a satellite television system ended up shooting his wife dead by accident.

Ronald Long tried to make a hole in the exterior wall of his house in Missouri, US, to install the dish for the system.

After several unsuccessful attempts, he got a .22-calibre handgun and blasted two holes in the wall.

The second bullet hit his wife, Patsy, in the chest, fatally wounding her.

Developing…

ANTI-EMO RIOTS BREAK OUT ACROSS MEXICO

Riot police have taken to the streets of several cities in Mexico to … defend emo kids?

A series of attacks on dyed-hair, eye-makeup-wearing emo kids began in early March when several hundred people went on an emo-beating rampage in Querétaro, a town of 1.5 million about 160 miles north of Mexico City. The next week, shaggy-haired emo kids were harassed again by punks and rockabillys in the capital, prompting police protection and a segment on the TV news. Most recently, a Mexican newspaper reported that metal heads and gangsters have warned Tijuana’s emo kids to stay away from the town’s fair next month.

But instead of just laying down, listening to Panic! At The Disco on their headphones, smearing their mascara to look tear-streaked, cutting themselves so they can “feel alive”, and surrendering, these Emo kids are rallying and preparing for war.

But the emo kids are organizing… Last week, they marched against the violence…

Here’s what a battalion of Mexican Emo kids looks like.

“What do we want? CHEAP RAZOR BLADES! When do we want them? NOW!”

And here are my two favourite faces in the crowd.

Gimp Emo:

Yessss, maassster.

Angry Emo:

Gaaarrr!

This is not the “First Ever Thread” I was going to make for GrodsCorp. That will have to take the backseat for a moment, for I have found something far, far more gobsmackingly ridiculous. This article I just read on the Sydney Morning Herald website:

A New Zealand man who claimed to have been left speaking Australian after being raped by a wombat has been sentenced to 75 hours community service.

Arthur Ross Cradock, a 48-year-old orchard worker, admitted in the Nelson District Court yesterday to the charge of using a phone for a fictitious purpose, after calling police with the message, “I’ve been raped by a wombat”.

Police prosecutor Sergeant Chris Stringer told the court that on the afternoon of February 11 Cradock called the police communications centre, threatening to “smash the filth” if they arrived at his home that night.

When asked if he had an emergency, he replied “yes”, Mr Stringer said.

Hold on, there are wombats in New Zealand? That’s almost as strange as being raped by one.

On a second subsequent call to the communications centre, Cradock told police he was being raped by a wombat at his Motueka address, and sought their immediate help.

He called police again soon after, and gave his full name, saying he wanted to withdraw the complaint.

“I’ll retract the rape complaint from the wombat, because he’s pulled out,” Cradock told the operator at the communications centre, who had no idea what he was talking about, Mr Stringer said.

“Apart from speaking Australian now, I’m pretty all right you know, I didn’t hurt my bum at all,” Cradock then told the operator.

The wombat’s pulled out, “I didn’t hurt my bum at all”. Who really fucked who here? And what does “speaking Australian” mean?

Mr Stringer said alcohol had played a big part in Cradock’s life. However, defence lawyer Michael Vesty said alcohol was not a problem that day.

Judge Richard Russell said he was not quite sure what motivated Cradock to make those statements to the police.

In sentencing, he warned Cradock not to do it again.

Yeah, don’t do it again, ya bloody drongo. Stick to sheep.

Or ask one of the men from GrodsCorp to send over a Fleshlight.

I’m allowed to make fun of goons (wine casks) because their other name — Dapto briefcases — refers to the suburb of Wollongong from whence I originally hail. And I’m allowed to make fun of Brisbane because that’s where I spent my high school years after moving from Dapto. With those facts in mind I present to you (courtesy of Damain in comments) what is possibly the news story of the year with the headline of the century.

THUGS USE GOON BAG TO BASH GOTHS

Two men have faced court over a violent assault which saw a group of goths bashed with a goon bag.

Luke Anthony Harrison, 21, and Mereki Ian Pryor, 19, were each sentenced to jail for the attack, which left five members of Brisbane’s gothic community nursing cuts and bruises.

The District Court today heard Harrison and Pryor had been drinking goon - or cask wine - in a park at the corner of Wickham Terrace and Ann Street in Fortitude Valley about 10.30pm on July 30, 2005 when the group walked past.

After shouting insults such as “freaks” and “faggots”, Pryor approached the three women and two men, aged between 19 and 24, asked them if they wanted to fight and began throwing punches and kicks.

Harrison, carrying the bag of goon, also became involved, using it to take a swing at one of the women, knocking her glasses off her face. Another woman was also hit.

Crown prosecutor Chris Minnery said one of the group managed to grab the cask.

“F*** off or I’ll break the goon,” she said while threatening to stomp on the bag.

The attack stopped when the group managed to flee to safety at the nearby Orient Hotel. None were seriously injured.

Pryor’s defence barrister, Megan Robbins, put her client’s behaviour down to alcohol abuse, telling the court that at the time he was drinking up to three litres of cask wine a day.

“His judgement was obviously impaired to a significant degree,” Ms Robbins explained, prompting Judge Julie Dick to fire back: “His liver can’t have been too good either.”

“This is public violence on a group of people who were just going about their business,” the judge told the pair, who both pleaded guilty to charges of assault occasioning bodily harm in company.

“They are entitled to dress and look how they like as long as they don’t interfere with the rest of the community.”

Pryor, who is already serving a three-and-a-half year prison term for unrelated offences, had an extra six months added to his sentence, but will be eligible to apply for parole today.

Harrison received a 12 month term and was released immediately on parole after Judge Dick accepted he had played a lesser role in the assault.

Judge Dick. Brilliant!

I just received the following astonishing caution:

Get fucked.

That’s the headline of a Sydney Morning Herald story today, and for once the headline is the least sensational detail of the report.

Apparently the woman sat down on her boyfriend’s thunderbox one day and never got off — at first because she wouldn’t, and eventually because she couldn’t:

Ness County Sheriff Bryan Whipple, in Wichita, Kansasn (sic) said it appeared the 35-year-old woman’s skin had grown around the seat.

Seriously, read the story. I don’t want to give too much away, but it’s one of those rare beasts that becomes increasingly surreal (and funnier) the deeper you get into it.